Chapter 8
—Human, isn’t a sword just something you swing?
It was decades ago.
At the time, Selus was traveling around in her polymorphed human form when she met an old man on a mountainside.
The old man claimed he was a great Swordmaster. But to Selus, he looked like nothing more than a frail, powerless mortal. She scoffed.
—A sword? Hmph. For a great dragon like me, such a thing is trivial.
Selus swung the sword in a few lazy arcs before him. The old man’s face reddened, and he smacked her thigh with his staff.
—You insolent thing! Even if you’re a dragon, you mustn’t treat a sword so carelessly!
—You… you hit me?
For a moment, Selus wanted to drop the act and breathe fire all over the old man.
But then the old man’s next words caught her off guard.
—Let me teach you. What it truly means to wield a sword.
Selus wasn’t the kind to be taught by a mere human. She was the “Great Calamity,” a dragon of overwhelming might.
But there was something about the certainty in the old man’s eyes that intrigued her. She wanted to know where that conviction came from.
So she decided to indulge herself for a while.
—Fine. But if your teaching is poor, I’ll start by eating your head first.
From then on, Selus began learning swordsmanship from the old man.
—Bend your knees more. You need to focus on your stance before attacking.
—Keep your back straight. That’s how you dodge efficiently.
—Your vertical slash—cleaner! No wobble!
It was grueling.
Magic was something she was born understanding, but swordsmanship was a different beast entirely.
Still, she found it… fun. The sweat dripping from her brow felt oddly rewarding.
—Hey, human. Haven’t I reached that “Swordmaster” thing by now?
—You’ve got a hundred years to go, you dumb lizard.
—Why, you little—!
—I suppose I’ll live long enough to see a stupid reptile become a Swordmaster. Prepare yourself. I’m attacking first.
—Ack! Go easy on me!
In hindsight, playing with that old man might have been one of her happiest times.
She trained with him for about a year.
In that time, Selus grew from a clumsy beginner into a swordswoman capable of rivaling human experts. In her human form, she even thought she might reach Swordmaster level one day.
Then, one day—
—Hey, human! What are you teaching me today?
Selus kicked open the door to his cabin, just like always.
Normally, the old man would scold her. “Late again, lazy lizard! Will you ever be on time?”
But this time…
—Hey. Are you still asleep?
He didn’t move. He just lay on his bed, hands folded neatly over his chest.
—Human. Get up. I’m in perfect shape today, you know.
She grabbed his arm to pull him upright. But his hand slipped from her grasp—limp and cold.
That’s when she remembered:
Human lives are short.
—…You’re dead?
No answer.
—You really died?
Still no answer.
—Didn’t you say you’d live to see me become a Swordmaster?
Selus shook his shoulders furiously.
—And yet you die so easily? Why?
But the old man’s closed eyes never opened. His still breath never returned.
—I… I don’t even know your name.
A cold wind blew through the room. It carried with it the faintest trace of the old man’s scent.
Something wet rolled down Selus’s cheek, though she didn’t quite understand what it was.
She only realized one thing—
She was alone. Truly, painfully alone.
After that, Selus never descended to the human world again. She stayed in her mountain, practicing the sword the old man had taught her, trying in vain to forget.
Decades passed like that.
So now—
“How dare he say I’ve never properly held a sword?”
Selus—now in the body of Daphne—snorted at Arius’s words.
“Don’t underestimate me, foolish human!”
Vertical Slash!
Daphne swung the wooden practice sword with all her might.
Her stance was flawless. Her strike—solid and heavy.
But she overlooked one crucial fact:
Her strength stat was 1. And her stamina was only 10.
“Uh…?”
Her vision spun.
“W-wait…”
She tried to speak, but her words cut off.
Like a marionette whose strings had been severed, Daphne collapsed to the ground with a thud.
Any normal person would rush to help a fainting five-year-old. But no one in the training hall moved.
They couldn’t.
Because what they had just witnessed left them all frozen.
Silence. Only the sound of someone swallowing dryly broke the air.
“…Captain.”
Arius finally came to his senses. That jolted the knight commander, Lloyd, back to reality too.
“Ah—yes.”
“Did I really see that?”
Lloyd’s eyes wavered. “See what, exactly…?”
“I mean!” Arius shouted, gripping the wooden sword tightly. “Did you see that five-year-old kid swing a sword with perfect form?!”
Arius was shaken to the core.
From the moment Daphne had picked up the sword, he’d sensed something off.
He knew she’d never trained. She was born weak, uninterested in swordsmanship, and had never set foot in the training hall.
So how?
How could she take such a flawless stance?
At first, he thought maybe her posture just looked good. But when she actually swung—
It was breathtaking. No wasted motion, no tremor. A perfect, pure vertical slash.
As much as he hated to admit it—
She was far more skilled than he was, despite his three years of training.
“Damn it!”
Arius stomped his foot, grinding his teeth.
“So that’s what bloodline means, huh…”
He muttered bitterly.
He might’ve been adopted by the lady of the house, but Daphne was the real child—born of both parents, inheriting their talents completely.
That cursed lineage.
His mouth tasted sour with resentment. He’d worked so hard, only for a mere child to surpass him in an instant.
His wooden sword trembled in his grip.
“Hmph. Take her to a physician.”
He turned to the other knights.
Then, glaring at Lloyd, he said coldly:
“From today on, you’ll train me personally.”
He clenched his jaw. “I refuse to be overtaken by that brat.”
Everyone in the training grounds thought the same thing at that moment—
A storm was about to hit the household.
“Hiyaah!”
Daphne woke with a shout, springing up from her bed.
The last thing she remembered was fighting Arius.
“Huh…?”
She blinked around. No dirt, no training yard. Just her familiar bedroom.
Then she realized what must’ve happened.
All those grand words she’d thrown at Arius—and she’d fainted after one single swing.
“How infuriating.”
She groaned. Her weak body couldn’t handle even a child’s wooden sword.
She needed to fix that. Strength and stamina first.
But how?
She had no idea how humans trained their bodies. Dragons were born powerful; she’d never needed to think about such things.
If I’d known I’d be stuck in such a fragile human body, I’d have studied this long ago!
She grumbled inwardly, but regret changed nothing.
“Who could I even ask…?”
Just as she pondered—
“Oh my!”
The door burst open. Anne and Anna rushed in, eyes wide.
“You’re awake, my lady!”
“Thank goodness!”
They hurried over, fussing over her like mother hens.
“Do you hurt anywhere?”
“Are you dizzy? Any headache?”
Daphne stared at their worried faces.
So loyal to this body, huh.
She didn’t understand why, but it wasn’t unpleasant—so she let them fuss.
“I’m fine. But get your faces out of mine—it’s annoying.”
“S-sorry!”
“Sorry, my lady!”
They pulled back immediately.
“We’re glad you’re unharmed. But just in case, I’ll fetch a physician!”
“And I’ll bring your meal!”
“Do as you wish.”
She waved them off dismissively, but they didn’t seem to mind, bustling about busily.
“Oh, and—!”
Anne paused at the door.
“The Knight Commander asked us to inform him the moment you woke. Should we?”
Knight Commander?
That psycho who threw wooden swords at children?
Daphne hummed in thought.
Her decision didn’t take long.
“Bring him.”
If someone wanted to see her, she’d hear them out. That was only proper.
“Yes, my lady!”
After the maids left, it wasn’t long before Lloyd knocked.
“My lady, may I enter?”
His voice was much more formal than before.
Daphne felt a flicker of satisfaction.
“Enter.”
Lloyd stepped in, stopping before her bed. He bowed slightly.
“My lady, I have something to ask you.”
